Dark is the Raven
by riskmykiss
Summary: <html><head></head>Old enemies become allies in a world where the lines between right and wrong blur.  Convinced that she must save the mutant race, Mystique battles to protect a deadly secret and struggles to shield her heart from softening to the gentle, Hank McCoy.</html>


Chapter 1:

"A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world."  
>~Oscar Wilde<p>

A cloud drifted past the moon shrouding its comforting light as it shredded into a misting fog. Were it not for the calculating spark in the woman's almond shaped eyes, squinting with feline interest at the activity in the dimly lit warehouse no one would have been able to see her. They didn't know she was there yet. It was one of her rules. Arrive early. Quite frankly, were she not being paid well and handsomely for this little excursion, she would have stayed curled up in her giant four poster bed that was already calling her name. Perhaps, she was getting older. The thought brought the first blush of a smile to her rouge tinted lips. Like a little thing like age could slow her down.  
>The woman licked her lips in anticipation as a figure silhouetted in the door frame. In the way that predators acknowledge each other, she knew instinctively that this was these people's leader. Waist length flame red hair seemed to ignite in the remnants of moonlight scattered across the floor, it did nothing to hide the indigo skin that marked this woman clearly a mutant. She wore a sash of skulls cinched at her waist and two gleaming guns in the holsters attached. From her perch in the shadows, the lone thief contemplated her position. The guns were a ruse. Anyone with half a brain could see that this woman was more dangerous without them. There was something she had to respect, however grudgingly, about the piercing, amber eyes of the woman. This was a woman that made things happen. She was a woman that could not hide her heritage and had no interest in hiding. She'd heard of this woman before. She had a certain...Mystique. That was it. What a fascinating thing to learn, she contemplated rolling her tongue across her lips, what was so special about this item that Mystique herself would come out of her safe haven to pick it up? Rule number two. Don't ask too many questions about the person handing you the money. She made a slight movement, no more than a fluttering of her hands but it worked like a charm. <p>

Mystique had not lived through the Legacy virus by being oblivious. She rotated her hips, her fingers sliding effortlessly to the hilt of the gun that rested against her body like palms cupping the fragile bones of her lower waist. She tilted her head and said softly into the darkness, "Don't look now boys, but I think we have company."

"Your reinforcements hardly inspire trust in a girl," the woman called a whip twitching restlessly between her fingers like a meandering tail.

"As long as you've brought the drop off, you've nothing to worry about. I've discovered that a business transaction hardly requires a modicum of trust, " Mystique replied smoothly.

With fluid grace, the thief pulled the object from her pack and sat it gingerly in the closest patch of light. Mystique walked confidently toward it, bent to inspect the item, touching it between her fingers as though it were something she couldn't bear to hold in her hands. She glanced it over, then nodded her approval.

"You've done well, your payment is in this silver case. I'll set it here for you to retrieve. You've done us a great service and for that the entire race of mutants are grateful," she said gesturing with a low twitch of her hand for one of her associates to bring the money close to the woman's foot.

"It is no service. It is as you say, merely business," the woman said impatiently. There was an air of desperation, an aura of something larger than herself at work that made her uneasy. She would not be sorry to collect her wages and put distance between herself and this place.

The case disappeared into the shadows so silently that only Mystique could say that she saw even the slightest movement. The woman had nearly made it to the opened window she'd left as her escape route when Mystique's voice halted her.

"One more thing. I must remind you that while I am in your debt for bringing me this item, part of your payment is for your silence. Tell no one we have met."

A throaty purr swept across the silent woman's lips. "Don't worry, darling, cat's positively got my tongue on this one," she said and disappeared through the open window as silently as she came. 

**********************************************

With a heavy sigh, Mystique gestured for her followers to prepare the item for transport as they collected themselves for the return journey to Avalon. It had been a long and trying night. A shorter woman came to stand by her side, the petite bob of her brunette hair swishing as she walked. She surveyed the fragile object that had brought them out on such a dark night.

"You really think that mercenary gal will keep her mouth shut," Rogue said with only the slightest traces of her legendary accent.

"Trust is a fragile thing, my dear. And nothing inspires trust like money," Mystique replied gazing in the direction of the open window, only now flapping tellingly in the wind.  
>"I can't believe that all this fuss is over a tiny little thing like that," Rogue complained shooting another glance at the offending object as it was being carefully handled back and forth.<br>Mystique lifted an eyebrow and effortlessly transformed her figure into the shape and appearance of the very woman who stood before her.  
>"God, Mom, don't do that! It's weird."<br>The older woman looked sorrowfully back into Rogue's eyes from her own golden ones then gradually allowed the rest of her form to melt back into her normal blue-skinned body. She allowed herself a rare ghost of a laugh then said, "I only meant to show you, we, above all others, know how deceiving appearances can be."  
>"Well, I still have ah hard time believin' that the fate of the entire mutant race rests on the outcome of...that." Rogue said helplessly.<br>"And who would have believed so many years ago that the evolution of a species rested in the tiniest particle of DNA? Our world is full of wonders, child, some beautiful and some terrible. Many, so many of them...terrible."

************************************************

Further away, another woman searched desperately for something she would fleetingly and listlessly call her last resort. The last vestige of hope for her dying son. A shout went up from her private lab and a radio technician came at a dead run into her lushly furnished office.

"Moira! Moira, we've got something this time. Something big," he shouted.

"Tell me it's good news," she said sinking wearily into her chair.

"The rogue operator, code-named, Mystique has made contact with the vessel. We believe she has it in her possession. Although the transmission was full of static we were able to piece together parts of Rogue's conversation with the rebel activist. We believe they are in the process of transporting it to the safe haven island of Avalon."

"What of the bug?

"The former X-men team member, Rogue, is unaware at this time, ma'am," he affirmed.

"Excellent, use the bug to track their whereabouts," Moira said a faint tremor of hope creeping into her voice, "and please, never forget, my son's life depends on it."

"Yes, ma'am," the technician said reverently. Her contributions as a doctor and scientist were legendary. Who would ever doubt Moira McTaggert? Long time lover and friend of the greatest mutant leader of all time, Charles Xavier, she had been pivotal in bridging the gap between homo sapiens and mutants, and bringing an end to the plague of the Legacy virus. Often working behind the scenes, she had almost gone forgotten, but to those she had worked side by side with for all those years, she was a saint. And they would follow her loyally, perhaps, even blindly, into a world even she could not predict.

**  
><strong>**A/N: So, hey guys : ) I'm super proud to introduce my latest project which happens to be a collaboration with one of my oldest friends! I'm a Marvel girl. Always have been. Always will be...now does that mean I haven't expanded my horizons to good, old, Gotham city? Absolutely not. I do have sort of a thing for Bats. Which is how this amazing trilogy idea got started...so I gotta say, I'm pretty excited. But what you have before you, is the first chapter in the Marvel installation of our trilogy. By the way, I wanted to be Mystique when I was a little girl. Check it. ******

**Reviews bring all the boys to the yard : ) So please, please make my day. I shall repay you in rainbows, and sunshine, and little Easter candies I can't get rid of. Or just my eternal gratitude. Whichever comes first. **

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**A/N: So not only is this my first fanfic, it's my first collaberation. And I had little to do with the first ch. But I read it and gave input...that counts right? That aside, ch 2 is going to be my writing with Risk doing the reading and what not. Hope you all enjoy our first chapter in what we hope to be a much longer and much more developed project. We hope to have ch 1 up on the DC version soon. Now Risk tells me I should tell you about myself. Well I suppose I should tell you, that I love to write, but I havent found a confidence in it till I met Risk. Really she can inspire you to step out and doing things you never would have before. She is now and will forever be the only person I have written poetry with. I feel most at home with a camera. It's a love I have had since childhood, and its about the only one that's stayed around. Lets see, I have a tumblr/deviant art/and Fb for all that stuff. ******

**Oh and Risk has it right. Tell us what you think so we'll post more. And, if I can convince Risk to beta for me, I might post something I'm working on all my own. :) ****  
><strong>**Y'all Come back now, ya hear.**


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